Feuerräder
by Asche
Summary: Aya is dying amidst dead bodies in a mission gone wrong. This is a wee-bit disturbing...so just be aware of that.


Blood pooled around him, gluing his pallor skin to the cement floor and tying his immobile body even tighter to the cold ground

Blood pooled around him, gluing his pallor skin to the cement floor and tying his immobile body even tighter to the cold ground. Others lay around him in the same predicament, though their breathing had long since stalled. Their thin decrepit limbs were stiffening now, old bodies beginning to slowly decay, raising the scent of rot and death to permeate the air around him.

He gagged, cheek pressed into the ground as the bile rose in this throat and spilled from partially closed lips. He was helpless to wipe it away. Pain was tearing through his body as if someone had taken a glave and decided to scrape off his skin from the inside while he lay frozen in a bathtub of ice. He was on fire, half-lidded eyes staring into bleak blackness with no one to pull him from hell. But there was still the nagging coldness biting at his arms and legs.

__

Aya…

His mind was growing foggy like an early spring morning and he found himself unable to remember why he was laying on the cold floor, in the dark stench-filled room. The only conclusion he could logically arrive at was that he was dying, just like all the bodies that surrounded him had, at their own respective time before.

A young brunette lay before him, her decaying eyes white and glassy staring straight into his orchid. Her skin was that of melting blue ice and her lips were pale, cracked and parted as if in mid-sentence. He kept his gaze locked with hers, eyes flicking only momentarily away to inspect her rotting body. Dried blood was caked beneath her pointed nose, and surely on other parts of her exposed nude body that was twisted in such ways that could only mean her neck and hip joints were shattered. Thick, stringy, dry hair, that was once beautiful, shrouded her face, dulling the intensity of her sharp cheekbones and piercing white eyes.

If he could have, he might have taken her into his arms and told her that everything would be alright, someone would come for her. He instead spoke softly to her, in vain effort to make up for his lack of movement but his words were lost on his lips which could not find the strength to move and help him to speak.

"I appreciate your concern, but I will be fine. It is you that I am worried about." His eyes widened as she spoke, his mouth opening and sending painful shots of lightning through his cheek. He wanted to tell her not to speak, to be quite and save her strength, that if she spoke anymore, her jaw, that was held on only by decaying strands of muscle, would fall off and clatter to the floor. The white eyes watched him, blinking expectantly before rolling back down to meet his gaze, empty again as they stared into his soul, as though they'd never moved and the dead girl had never spoken.

A quiet buzzing drew his senses away from her, and a tickling sensation made itself known as a fly landed on his cheek and trudged its way through the sticky, drying blood. Maybe it had mistaken him as one of the dead and chose him as the next best place to lay it's eggs. Freshly dead meat would be a tasty meal for the maggots when they hatched. At least then, he would be good for something.

__

Aya.

"It is getting dark out isn't it?" The girl was looking at him again, an awful smelling puss-foam dripping from her nose and mouth. One eye looked dangerously close to popping out of her head. "Don't be afraid, if _he_ comes, I'll rip out his heart and share it with my friends." A gruesome moan that resembled metal on metal resonated from the dead around him in a unison sound of agreement. He writhed a little, like a fly in the spiders web, only causing himself more pain as he tried to work up the strength to tell her 'no'.

"He will never know." Her voice, that before was weary but kind, had now lowered itself into a deep hiss. "You will lay here and die with us, in your own puke and blood, and he will never know that--"

"STOP!" His voice resonated throughout the room, the strength in it surprising him, but it came with a price. Skin ripped from his malnourished face as his head lifted, and acid burned down his throat and into his stomach before making a second round back up. The girl fell silent, laying still again as she had before, but the foam was still there. Wild and frightened eyes didn't leave her face and his chest rumbled with haggard breaths.

Her eye popped from her head and rolled over, bouncing off his nose leaving a dimple of slime and then rolling back to be consumed in the growing pile of maggots that were pouring from the empty socket where her eye had been. The scream died on his lips before it could ever be borne, pain, and fright holding him prisoner in iron bars. He could only stare into her remaining eye that seemed to glare at him with a fire of hatred.

"You did this to me!" She screamed, hiss gone from her voice, it was now high and shrill, screaming at him. "You did this, you bastard! You didn't save me, You'll suffer the same! Rot and Die!" Her screaming bit his ears and the sight of her made him clench his eyes shut, blocking out the vision and memory of her contorted screaming mouth, the empty holes in her face, and her heated accusations.

Hot ice tears trickled down his cheeks from his locked eyes scarring off the nesting flies. "Please, stop." He whispered brokenly, sobs wracking his chest and making him cough and heave with a burning pain equal to any forest fire. "Please…" he whispered again, and again, lost in his own quite, sobbing pleas. He drifted away into a world filled with white as her voice died and his mind was dipped into a glaze of silence. The tears slowed and his breath evened out.

"Aya!"

His eyes tried to flicker open as a yellow globe passed over him, but a crusty glue held them closed and he was tired of fighting.

"Holy Fuck…"

"Where is he? You don't think-"

"NO! Don't say it." A pause and footsteps drifted away and came near him all at once. "Aya!!" Aya? His mind was reeling. Who was looking for his sister? She was at home asleep in her bed, she wasn't here with all these decaying people, she didn't see that crazy woman with the missing eye, Aya couldn't be in such a terrible place. Could she? Aya…No… He forced his eyes open, pulling against the conflicting crust that hat crystallized on his eyelids, protecting him from the sights around him. They opened with a crunch and a bright yellow light, made him blink once slowly, before he opened his eyes again. "There!" no no no…Aya wasn't here. She's not here! Where do you see her? The yellow light focused on him and he looked below it at booted feet through half-lidded eyes. 

He tried to work up the strength to speak, to make sure that his sister wasn't laying dead in the mess of bodies that surrounded him, to make sure that she wasn't the one eyed thing that was screaming at him. But he couldn't talk, and he couldn't move.

"Aya…"A sudden warmth descended around him, and the light tenor voice kept on cooing out his sisters name. Why was there someone beside him? Why weren't they looking for his sister? Long fingers pressed against his throat, as if searching for something. "He's alive! Omi, Ken! Over here!" He must have found what he was looking for because his voice was holding an indescribable excited terror in it's call. Thin hands peeled his cheek from the floor, sending dizzying waves of pain over him, threatening to consume him and drag him back into the ocean of unconsciousness. He held on and turned his gaze to the chestnut-haired man who hovered over him. He was very familiar, but who was he? His mothers brother? One of his father's friends? 

"It's going to be ok, Aya," the same voice reassured. "We're going to take you home now, and tomorrow everything will be fire." His voice was tight. He wondered what was wrong with the man, he wanted to tell him that he wasn't Aya, that he should go and find her before it was too late, tell him that she was somewhere else, but instead tired eyes fell closed once more and the calling of the name Aya fell on deaf ears.

Asche: Yep. That's the end. No more. Yaay. It might be a later part of a fanfic that I am in the midst of working on…but I haven't yet decided. It's very possible. I hope it is at least semi-decent. It was written on a whim in around four hours or so when my sane frame of mind was drifting. Let me know what you think if it isn't too much out of your way. 

This is up for interpretation to whether you think happened at the end of the story…(ß sorry if that makes no sense, I'm falling asleep at the keybaord.)

Thanks, Dooumo, Danke. 

Ja ne.


End file.
